Queue: (British) – a line or sequence of people or vehicles awaiting their turn to be attended to or to proceed.
London in July, with its blend of sunshine and frequent showers, is synonymous with one thing for tennis fans: Wimbledon. This year, I decided it was time to experience the tournament firsthand. Though my family joined me on the trip to the United Kingdom, they opted to enjoy the city’s sights while I braved the legendary Wimbledon Queue alone. The Queue had always been intriguing, and I was determined to experience this iconic British tradition.
Preparing for The Queue
Having done my homework, I set my alarm for a daunting 4 am, ensuring I caught the first Underground train to the Southfields station. Note to others: although there is a Wimbledon Park station on the Underground, it is further past the hallowed grounds. My backpack was packed with essentials—snacks, water, a blanket, and a portable battery for my phone. Arriving at the station a little after 5:30 am, I exited the underground and followed those few other crazy souls who also seemed eager for tennis.
At the time, I thought I may have been early, given the lack of others around me. However, as I walked down the hill and the expansive grounds of Wimbledon Park came into sight, I realized I was sorely mistaken. The sight of stewards waking those who had camped overnight gave me a sinking feeling; arriving at 6 a.m. felt like a good idea, but my Queue Card, numbered 3,625, suggested otherwise. That meant at least 3,624 other dedicated fans had arrived earlier than me. I say, “at least:” because I soon realized that many of those waiting were not queueing for that day but for future days, such as the quarter-finals and beyond, which were still three days away!
My Wimbledon Queue Experience
The Queue at Wimbledon is an experience like no other. For six hours, I stood with fellow fans, sharing stories and snacks while the Wimbledon App kept us informed about our place in line, the match schedule for the day, and towards the end of my time, the scores of matches already in progress. As I chatted with those around me, I became aware that the Queue was indeed an experience; it reminded me of a music festival, except the main attractions were on the other side of Church Rd. There were even large screens to keep us updated, but sadly, they did not play tennis on them.
As I got closer and closer to the front of the queue, I became painfully aware that I would not be sitting in Center Court, Court 1, or Court 2 that day. Unlike other Grand Slams, in which tickets are bought and sold freely on the open market, Wimbledon has a unique ticket policy. One of the more exciting aspects is that on each day leading up to the semi-finals, 500 tickets for Center Court, Court 1, and Court 2 are sold to those waiting in the queue. However, even the prospect of Center Court at a bargain price of two hundred dollars was not enticing enough for me to want to camp overnight for two or possibly three nights. (With no guarantee of if I’d get a seat!)
Finally, at around 12:30 p.m., over six hours later, I was ushered through the new Queue Village before I came across Church Road, and the beautiful Center Court came into view. I stepped through the gates, and the sight of the lush green grass of Wimbledon greeted me. The atmosphere was electric, and the air was filled with the unmistakable “pop” of tennis balls being struck. After taking the obligatory photo before the famous Wimbledon draw board, I headed towards the Resale Queue. As if waiting in one queue wasn’t enough punishment, I was determined to try and get a seat inside Center Court or Court 1, and I had read about the Resale Queue, yet another quirk of Wimbledon.
Queue: Queue No. 2 (And 3)
As I marched swiftly towards this second queue, I turned the corner around Court 1 and was confronted with a magnificent site. It was Henman Hill, with its notable view of two big screens and completely packed with fans. The atmosphere was festive despite the typical London weather playing its part, with clouds threatening rain and the ground turning soggy. I dodged blankets, champagne bottles, babies, gents in suits, ladies in summer dresses, and many umbrellas before realizing that there was a very deserted set of stairs that was patrolled by a steward who ensured that everyone moved up and down swiftly, as long as you were in the stairs and not the grass like I was.
As I arrived at the Resale Queue, I thought I had struck Wimbledon Gold as the location was almost deserted, only to be told (very politely) that the Resale Queue was digital. I could have my Wimbledon App scanned to join this queue. Upon scanning, I was once again disappointed, as number 4,532 popped up, meaning, for the second time that day, the hope of watching Carlos Alcaraz and Coco Gauff on Centre Court or Jannik Sinner versus Ben Shelton on Court 1 was dashed. So, I faced reality and accepted that I would have to enjoy these matches on the big screen on a soggy Henman Hill.
It wasn’t the perfect setting that I had envisioned, but sitting on the lawn, drinking a classic Pimms with a group of new friends, and watching the matches on the big screens was an experience – until it rained, and we all dashed for cover!
Thankfully (and most likely due to good planning by the stadiums’ architects), the underbellies and concourses of the Center Court and Court 1 stadiums provided ample room to shelter from the rain. I took this opportunity to sample the quintessential strawberries and cream at the Tea Garden. Not unexpectedly, I did need to wait in another queue to enter the Tea Garden.
Time for Tennis & Tea at Wimbledon
Eventually, the rain cleared, and, invigorated by a pot of classic English tea, I went to the outside courts to try and finally catch some live action. I first headed to Court 3, catching my countryman Michael Venus in doubles action; due to the speed at which I had dashed to this court when the rain cleared, I could avoid this queue and found a seat about 35 rows back from the court. The quality of the match itself was fantastic. However, a poorly timed bathroom break meant I lost my seat, and the stewards operated a strict “no saving seats” policy. I couldn’t bear another queue, so I moved back to Henman Hill to watch the matches on the big screen. Eventually, rain set in for the day, all matches on the outside courts were called off, and it was time to head back to the underground station and see what the family had spent the past fourteen hours doing.
While I didn’t get to see the top players on Centre Court, the experience of queuing and being part of the Wimbledon atmosphere upon the grounds was unforgettable. The Queue is a rite of passage, a test of patience, and a unique aspect of Wimbledon that no other major sporting event offers. It’s a testament to the dedication of tennis fans and the unique culture surrounding this storied tournament.
Despite the challenges and lack of live tennis, my day at Wimbledon was an experience I will always cherish. With its history, charm, and quirks, Wimbledon is a must-see for any tennis enthusiast. While my initial day at Wimbledon may not have been ideal, I certainly learned the ins and outs of the queue, made some lasting memories, and had conversations that I’ll remember for a long time. Stay tuned for my next post as I revisit Wimbledon for a second day in a completely new manner, which certainly afforded me a more relaxing and enjoyable experience on the grounds and within the courts.
